An Ancient Guardian And A Very Human Inquisitor
by Alexiees
Summary: Abelas - one of the most fascinating characters in DAI and all we get is a glimpse of him at the end of Inquisitors journey. What could happen if their paths cross once again? This is a story of a hesitant approach and wary cooperation between a mortal Inquisitor and an ancient guardian. (Post DAI, Warning: male mage Inquisitor x male Abelas, T for later chapter)
1. Chapter 1

Abelas, the ancient guard and loyal servant of Mythal stood in the middle of the sacred temple. The usual wan skin and piercing gaze did not express the turmoil of emotions inside of him. The copper red armor was still shining brightly in the mellow sun, like on the first day of his duty.

"The Inquisition left the Arbor Wilds, Abelas. So did Corypheus. We await your command."

The ancient guard gave no sign of acknowledgment. Instead, he took in the sight of the remaining sentinels. No pride filled his chest, no hope sparkled in the cold eyes. Only the deathly void was creeping up his spine.

"_Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas_", were the parting words of the strange Inquisition-elf.

But how could a guardian of the well accept an another name. Defending the temple, the heritage of Mythal was his only purpose in life. With the well gone, there was also nothing left of him.

He exhaled and lowered his head. Should they attend the blissful sleep and to never awake again? Give in to the void and lay down to rest peacefully?

"Abelas", spoke his second-in-command once again. "There is nothing here for us. We should depart as well."

The guardian gave a nod and turned to the sentinels.

"Our duty came to an end. Together, we shall seek out a place that is untouched by the shemlen. Halamshiral, possibly, the end of our journey."

* * *

„Inquisitor Trevelyan, if not for your formal attire, I would have mistaken you for the stable boy!"

Josephine's amused voice startled the young Inquisitor. He rose to his feet, a little clumsy, holding on to his hart.

"Even as the mighty Inquisitor I still care for my mounts. And to what purpose does Lady Montilyet visit the stables?"

The ambassador gave a charming smile, even so she noticed the sudden change of topic.

"There is a matter of minor importance I have to discuss with Master Dennet. By the way, Cullen was looking for you. Some problems with dangerous elven warriors roaming the Arbor Wilds it seems. Even after Corypheus' defeat, we still have so much work on our hands!"

"I shall seek him out then", Trevelyan replied, taken aback by the ambassadors highly motivated demeanor.

"Excellent!", she proclaimed, then added cautiously, "Should you need a friend to talk to, Inquisitor, just come to me, yes?"

He bowed politely and watched the lady depart. It surprised him how encouraged and enthusiastic Skyhold inhabitants were.

"I wish I could join the general gleefulness", he entrusted the Tirashan Swiftwind and the animal nuzzled in the fabric of his attire. "With Dorian back home in Tevinter, fighting a noble battle against those evil magisters, there is a hole in my heart nothing could fill."

The bitter truth, blunt as it was, gnawed at the Inquisitors soul. He knew, his romance with the tevinter mage had to end at some point. He just did not expected it to be so soon.

The Tirashan Swiftwind finally snorted, perhaps on the misery of his human rider, and gave him an encouraging push in the ribs.


	2. Chapter 2

The door to commander's quarters was left ajar, so he didn't bother knocking. Inquisitor found Cullen Rutherford in front the window, reading a letter with a smirk. It was one of those rare moments, when the warrior didn't look worried, depressed or broody.

Trevelyan felt a little sting of guilt for prying. He cleared his throat and met Cullens startled gaze with an apologetic smile.

"A letter from Mia I presume?"

"Yes, my sister always had a peculiar view of things and an even odder manner in expressing those. It seems her letters are getting longer and longer after everything got back in order …"

Cullen leaned against the table and added amused: "Not that I object."

"It is nice to have a family", Inquisitor noted with a sigh. Though all those funny, squishy and warm-hearted feelings inside started to make him slightly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat again.

"But there are still things to fix, it seems. Josephine told me you wanted to speak with me."

Commander nodded.

"There will always be work to do, Your Worship. We are not in one of those fairytales with a happily ever after. Truth be told, very much like Cassandra, I already await the next great disaster. My life never seemed to disappoint me on this matter."

Cullen turned to his desk, looking for a certain report.

"Aaaand we are back to those needless titles again", Inquisitor mused. "Just call me by my real name. It sounds much nicer."

Cullen gave him a frown over his shoulder.

"I could, … I will, as long as we speak in private. Addressing you too casual in public could insinuate a rather intimate relationship between us."

"Yeah, I know. Absolutely horrifying, right?", Inquisitor commented with a grimace. He rolled his eyes however, as the Commander wasn't looking. _I spend too much time with Sera_, he thought to himself.

Finally Cullen found the right report and handed it over to the Inquisitor.

"Observations from our men in the Arbor Wilds. It seems our old elven acquaintances are holding peaceful travelers in fear. According to some Orlaisian nobles they might also have strangled and skinned one or two fellows from Fereldan."

Trevelyan took a glance at the sloppy handwriting.

"Lovely. We shall discuss this case at the war table once I'm done reading."

He straightened up and looked to the Commander intently.

"A nice day to you, Cullen."

"Until later, … Lord Trevelyan."

Inquisitor let out a sigh and shook his head in surrender, as he left the Commanders quarters.


	3. Chapter 3 - Departure

**Warnings:** bl/slash/Abelas x Inquisitor; angst and mild violence in later chapters

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age and am writing this story for fun, not profit.

* * *

The Inquisitor was leaning over the war table, crowded by arguing Cullen and Leliana. Right now, he was considering propositions to solve the recent conflict without unnecessary bloodshed.

His main struggle was about not having any idea about the sentinel's intentions, nor grasping their point of view. _Maybe it isn't even possible for a human to understand the mind of the ancient elfs_, Trevelyan reasoned.

He clearly remembered the last time they have spoken to Abelas. He could even feel the outrage and bitterness radiating from him. And honestly, the Inquisitor was baffled, as the elf let them have Mythal's knowledge after all. It changed from: No way in hell would I hand over this precious to a bunch of apes, and in the next second, to: Nah, just kidding! Take it, you seem like a decent fellow.

"Now we could really use an advice from you, Solas," he muttered to himself, instantly missing his quite companion.

"We still have a sufficient amount of forces stationed in the area. A quick and precise assault will do," Cullen suggested and earned himself a scowl from Leliana.

"Typical. Make heads roll first, ask questions later. If there will be someone left to ask, that is. I suggest a careful approach. My agents should look into it, research the area, find out what the temple elves are up to."

Cullen frowned, looking to the other members. "That will take too long! While your little helpers will hide in the bushes, the sentinels may skin the next couple of innocent travelers."

"I highly doubt," Leliana added coldly, "that prior guardians of sacred elven temples would go on a killing spree for no reason. Your men are no spies, Commander, their power of observation equals that of ants!"

While Cullen seemed to be struck speechless Leliana went on: "These reports of yours are a start, but I wouldn't rely on them too much."

The Inquisitor straightened up, deciding it was time to interfere.

"I agree on the fact, that we need a better insight into the situation. We definitely need to investigate."

Cullen folded his arms and gave the Inquisitor an probing look.

"Then tell me, Inquisitor, how would you sneak up on an elf in his habitat. They do have large, pointy ears for a reason."

"I don't know", Trevelyan admitted with a shrug. "But still, it doesn't change the point. Even if they are killing the folks in the area, we should at least try to give them a chance to explain themselves with a fair trial if necessary."

"But they are too dangerous", the Commander stated. "We should charge in and strike them down, otherwise we are risking a long-lasting conflict!"

"Maybe there is no reason for a conflict", Leliana muttered.

The doors flew open and Josephine rushed in, clutching a letter in her hand.

"I apologize for my late arrival. I just received a letter from Val Royeaux. Lord Mainserai the young is missing. He was hunting with a larger group of noblemen near the Arbor Wilds. His mother already hired scouts, but due to the dangers of these region, she humbly asked for the Inquisition's aid. Maybe there is a connection to our current case?"

"More likely eaten by a bear or squashed by a giant," Cullen growled.

"You may or may not know about the older Lord Mainserai," the Ambassador continued, "a nobleman of Halamshiral, later assassinated by Briala due to his machinations against the city elves. One would assume the Lord's son could not be too generous about the dalish either."

The Inquisitor exchanged looks with his advisors as he made up his mind.

"There are still millions of eyes watching our every move and we still give an example for others. Therefore, I shall attend to this matter personally. I will form a team and leave for the Arbor Wilds in the morning. Commander, I expect your military backup on-site. Spymaster, ensure a safe communication with Skyhold."

As Cullen and Leliana both gave a quick nod, the Inquisitor directed his attention to the Ambassador.

"Well then, Lady Montilyet, what else can you tell me about the Mainserais?"

* * *

It's been several days since they left Skyhold. The cold weather and the hilly region slowed them down. Still, Trevelyan found it somehow nice to be on the way again, to leave the dusty castle chambers and the tedious paperwork behind.

"Uhhh, I can't stand Emprise du Lion. How do people live here?" Varric complained.

Inquisitor turned around, as he heard the dwarves distant voice.

"Wait up, Varric has fallen behind," he announced to the rest.

"Should I lift you on my shoulders or carry you like a husband carries his bride?" Bull shouted amused.

"Neither, I'm just taking my time, admiring the wonderful landscape of the Highlands."

Blackwall joined to stand beside Trevelyan. "Poor Varric, the snow reaches above his waist." The self-proclaimed warden was silent for a moment, then added, "Though I'm still a little surprised you picked the dwarf over Sera. He is very decent with his crossbow, but Sera's arrows, they never miss."

The men gave him a crooked smile. "True. However you have to take her demeanor into account and consider our destination. Varric might write some passionate novels about our elvish friends afterwards, but Sera can get us killed with a comment in an instant. I would prefer to solve things diplomatically."

"I see."

They watched quietly as the dwarf stumbled through the snow towards them.

"Don't want to rush you guys, but, how far till the next camp?"

Trevelyan gave the little man a sympathetic look. "Not far. Maybe an hour away." Then smirked, adding: "By human standards at least".

"Great", Varric huffed sarcastically. "Maker, I have that damn snow everywhere. I mean it, literally!"

Iron Bull laughed. "Now I have an excellent idea! How about we take Blackwall's shield and tie a rope to it, kind of like a sleigh!"

"No, forget it Tiny. Don't assault my dwarven dignity."

Still, half an hour later Varric was finally manhandled onto the shield and pulled along by a laughing Iron Bull.

* * *

His fingers clutched into the soil. Tall figures were looming over him. Copper red armor shone brightly in the sun, blinding him. He knew this day would come eventually.

_Oh Maker, please, let me die a quick painless death!_

„A spy. Here? Unique. Who are your masters?"

He gazed straight ahead, frozen, even afraid to breathe.

"I have little patience with your kind, shemlen. You will tell me who you work for now or experience a long, dreadful end. Choose wisely."

_No, I will never betray the Inquisition._ The men closed his eyes, trembling lightly, and remained silent.

"Well then. You've made your choice."

The hooded elf made a gesture towards one his companions. Two of them grabbed the men by his shoulders and dragged him away.

"There are more of them, Abelas. Two shemlen are hiding at a larger distance. Our scouts shot down the crow they've sent. Here is the message."

Abelas read the scribbled note. It contained a short report of their activity. Clearly, the shemlen were clueless.

"Capture the remaining spies. Sooner or later they will reveal their who's in charge."

"At once," the sentinel confirmed and vanished with in a puff.


	4. Chapter 4 - The March

Trevelyan sat down by the fire and stretched his aching legs with a sigh. It's been a long, tedious march from Skyhold. Fortunately they already passed Emprise Du Lion. The climate became milder from day to day as they approached the Emerald Graves, so there was no more risk of freezing to death in the night.

"What's up with the sour expression, Your Inquisitorialness?" Varric asked while roasting a couple of nugs on a spit and pouring oil over them from time to time.

Trevelyan gave him a weary smile. "Nothing really, just contemplating life."

The dwarf looked at the men with a knowing expression. "Hmm, well … I too miss Dorian, Inquisitor. There is nothing wrong about saying it out loud. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, well, I have two."

Trevelyan chuckled lightly, then suddenly shook his head. "I knew he would leave for his homeland eventually, he's said it himself. I was prepared mentally, I think. But it's not just about him, Varric. The lines of our companions are thinning out," admitted Trevelyan as he met the kind watchful gaze of his friend. "Cassandra is now the Divine, Dorian is fighting his own battles in Tevinter and Solas disappeared without a trace. It means we lost a fearsome warrior and two excellent mages. The Inquisition cannot live up to its ideals without outstanding people who represent it."

Varric put the nugs aside and moved closer to Trevelyan. "Then it's high time to keep an eye for new recruits. Furthermore I see an excellent mage right before me."

Trevelyan huffed and rolled his eyes. "You don't need to try comforting me Varric. I'm merely listing the facts we'll have to deal with. Also, I am confident in my abilities as a healer and enchanter. But I cannot dominate the battlefield with raw magic like Dorian or Solas did. Not yet at least."

"Well, we still have our Iron Lady."

"Maker, no!" the Inquisitor complained. "I always return with headaches from missions with her. It's like going into battle with my grandmother! I've no clue how Bull bears with her snobbish comments and annoying voice. Her lectures could tear the veil just by themselves!"

Varric chuckled amused."Must be one of these qualities which come with the Qun," he commented and tended to roasting nugs once again.

Sometime later Blackwall and Iron Bull came back with more firewood. The qunari gave a joyful grunt as he inhaled the pleasant smell of food.

"Varric, I could marry you on the spot just to keep you as my personal cook."

"Ha-ha. Unfortunately my heart is already taken. Besides, I thought dwarves aren't your type."

"Everyone who can make me drool is my type," said the qunari as he gave Varric a meaningful smirk.

Trevelyan watched his friends with a grin, while Blackwall tried his best to ignore the verbal exchange.

They enjoyed their meal in silence until a scout appeared with a letter.

"A message from Skyhold, Your Worship." The woman handed a small scroll to the Inquisitor.

"Any good news?" Iron Bull asked while chewing on a greasy nug hunch.

"Hardly. A couple of Lilianas spies went missing while following a trace of the young Lord Mainserai. Also, Cullen has settled a meeting point with his soldiers in the Emerald Graves." Trevelyan folded the letter and tucked it away. "Let's eat up quickly and go to bed. We need to restore our strength for another long day of marching."

* * *

It was a warm, starlit night. A faint sheen from the ocher moon fell over the camp. Sleepy figures of soldiers, men and women, were strolling around, unaware that they were being watched.

"They have moved here recently. It is just as one of the captured scouts has told us: Around forty shemlen from the Inquisition, well-armed," spoke Abelas' Second in the ancient elven speech to his leader. They stood on one of the thicker brunches high above the ground. "These shemlen seem to have settled for a longer period of time."

Abelas felt a hint of distaste while overlooking them. To him those humans resembled a shoal of ants, unaware of neither the past nor the future, following someone's orders blindly while moving out of instinct through their short lives.

"Shall we prepare an assault?"

"Not jet," answered Abelas quietly.

Truth be told, he did had a little hope as he first met the small group of the Inquisition. Even so they shamelessly looted all the treasures on their path, they did not try to break the ancient temple rules and attempted to see reason in the end. At least most of them.

But seeing this larger group now, boldly roaming the Dales, challenged the patience of the ancient Sentinel.

"Keep observing, report immediately if you notice any changes," Abelas commanded at last.

Then he blended into the greenery, only to reappear fully at the foot of the large elven ruin the Sentinels currently used as their retreat.

His First, a female Sentinel spellweaver, was already waiting for him. Her hard-featured face did not display any emotions, though her voice sounded rougher than usual as she addressed the Sentinels leader.

"We should let them know they are not welcome here," she stated evenly.

"I understand you, lethallan. But they haven't done anything wrong until now. If they push along soon we don't have to reveal our presence."

His First responded with an obedient nod and retreated, leaving Abelas standing alone in between the silent moss-grown wolf sculptures.

* * *

Several days later Lord Trevelyan woke up to a strange noise. Instantly alert he reached for his staff. Recalling some stun and protective spells in his mind, the Herald crept out of his tent. He momentarily froze in awe as he discovered the source of the sound.

A group of hallas was roaming around the camp. Their white fur and twisting horns were sparkling in the rising sun, making Trevelyan blink a couple of times and rub his sleepy eyes.

"Andraste's holly ass, they are eating our food!" called Varric as he emerged from his tent, gesturing furiously at the animals, determined to drive them away. "To be correct, they already _ate_ everything we had!"

"Well, … that's unfortunate," commented Blackwall as he too discovered the state of their camp.

"I'll catch them and roast the one who ate my nug pie!" roared Iron Bull angrily.

"Calm down everyone," reasoned Trevelyan, stepping on the grass that was now covered with bread crumbles. "You can't just eat a halla Bull, they are sacred to the Dalish."

"And I do worship my nug pie! I was thinking about it as I went to bed and it was the first thing that came to my mind in the morning. Those glowing beasts just ate it! How is that fair?"

The companions' mood remained gloomy until they were packed up and back on the road. Trevelyan continued observing the surroundings as they ventured forward. A couple hours later they noticed the subtle change around them. The fresh air carried a heavier scent of flowers with a hint of moss, that made the head spin a little. Even their steps seemed to become lighter on the soft ground. Now and then some little animals hushed between their feet.

The group came to a halt before a large stone sculpture of a wolf. Taking a deep breath the Herald said, "Welcome to the Emerald Graves."

"On your left side you can see trees and if you turn your attention to the right you can see, uh oh, more trees," Varric commented sarcastically.

"This place always gives me goose bumps," Blackwall whispered, looking around.

"Relax, Blackwall," said the qunari and gave the warrior an encouraging clap on the back, sending him a meter forward. "Nothing more than a few refugees along the road and lots of good lumber."

"I would be careful with that lumber part if I were you," the man answered, hastily regaining his posture. "I've this strange … sensation, maybe we are being watched?"

The companions fell into silence, each of them taking in the surroundings with practiced awareness.

Trevelyan couldn't spot any foreign presence. The sensation he felt right now was a pleasant one, but it also made his reflexes slower and his senses duller. A boon and bane.

"I do feel kind of different. A little funny …"

Varric smirked, "Hey Tiny, stop with that butt-ogling. You are making our companions nervous."

Blackwall's jaw went slack. "You do what?!"

The qunari leaned onto the statue with a joyful grin. "Nah, I'm just appreciating the sight of my lovely company from time to time. But can you really blame me? It has been weeks since, … uhm, the last decent distraction."

Blackwalls expression turned disturbingly dark and Varric just shook his head, while the Inquisitor was completely oblivious of their conversation. His mind seemed to become clouded. He cupped the lithic jaw of the wolf and stared at him with wide green eyes.

"Once you were a companion of an Emerald Knight. A Knights Guardian, running alongside your elf, fighting together, sharing your food and protecting him. Now you are here all alone, lost and forgotten. I am sorry and it makes me sad."

"Well, now I feel even more hungrier," grunted Iron Bull and urged everyone back on the way.

The walk to the next camp was more silent, occupied with observation of the beautiful but dangerous landscape of the dailish forest. They came by animal sculptures and other remains of the former Emerald March now and then.

Meanwhile Lord Trevelyan was humming a tune while walking zigzag for every herb that caught his eye.

"Tell me, Inquisitor," sounded the low voice of the qunari somewhere behind the mage, "Not that it's my business or anything, but what precisely are you gonna do with tons of Embrium?"

Trevelyan looked over his shoulder and gave Iron Bull a sweet smile.

"Hmm, dunno. But they are bright and shiny, beautiful, aren't they?" he answered sheepishly. "I shall make a wreath of these flowers, for everyone!"

The mage couldn't see the looks his companions exchanged behind his back. He kept hopping from herb to herb, humming and calling "Gotta harvest them all!".

"Uhm, Tiny … ," Varric whispered, "I hope you haven't given our human some of this strong qunari brew. He looks a bit drunk to me."

"Nah, I wouldn't do that on a mission. Maybe he is just happy about something."

"That stage of happy you can only get with a decent portion of lyrium. Maybe he ate some wrong berries?"

"Would make sense."

The three companions watched dubiously as the Inquisitor was spinning around, became lightheaded and fell into the grass.

Varric came to stand over Trevelyan with an expression, that was partly amused and partly worried.

"Dear Inquisitor, tell us what was the last thing you-"

Varric wasn't able to finish his sentence as the mage pulled him down into a tight hug.

"Awww, you are the most adorable little dwarf I ever met! Always wanted to tell you that."

Varric tried to free himself, but the struggle was useless unless he risked to hurt Trevelyan. As it wasn't enough, the mage rubbed his cheek on Varric's, telling him he was a good boy.

Iron Bull and even Blackwall fell into hysterical laughter.

"Hey Varric, are you doing researches for your next book?" the qunari called happily.

"Uh-uh, better help me up you big old moose!"

Iron Bull snatched Varric away from the Inquisitor in one arm-swing, setting him safely on the ground beside.

"We need to reach the next camp before the dusk", Blackwall stated after he wiped the tears from laughter.

Varric noted, that it was probably the first time he saw the older man laugh full heartedly. Still, the price was too damn high. The dwarf decided to have a serious talk with the Inquisitor once he went back to normal.

The qunari set the mage up and grabbed his sleeve tightly, continuing their journey through the Emerald Graves.

Lord Trevelyan felt drowsy, as in some kind of a trance. For a short period of time he felt a moment of fear as the idea of possibly being possessed by a spirit or worse, a demon, crossed his clouded mind. But then his favorite little dwarf handed him a mug of steamy nug soup and any discomfort vanished once again. The big-horned moose-man covered him with a blanket and after several long stares and pinches he was left alone.

He drank the warm liquid and drifted into sleep.

Trevelyan jolted awake and found himself surrounded by darkness. The campfire was already out, familiar faces deep in slumber.

The mage was still clouded by strange sensations. He crawled from under the blanket as he recognized the figure of the dwarf, sleeping in a sitting position. Trevelyan was up to snuggle next to him, but a bright sound caught his attention.

He sat up, listening attentively. _Chimes?_

Without further consideration he rose and went after the sound.

_This sound's so nice_, he thought as he strode through the murky forest. His legs felt numb and unsteady, especially on the soft moss ground. His vision was like a blur of mixed dark blue and violet colors. Once he got distracted by glowing fireflies, until his ears picked the chimes again and he continued his path. The sound guided him deeper into the woods.

He was unaware of where he was already to begin with. Now he partly walked, partly crawled only towards the sound. His hands soon became bruised and bloody from the now rocky path, but the pain felt so dull and distant in his mind, that it didn't really bother him.

As a small river appeared before him, he attempted to pass it upright. After a few shaky steps he stumbled over a root and fall facedown into the water, gurgling his way into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5 - And So We Meet Again

**Author's comment**: Hello there! It took me awhile to post this chapter, Sumimasen! Exams kept me from writing (but not reading, he he). As you might've noticed this is my first fanfiction. I would greatly appreciate any kind of support: comments, likes, cookies... Aaaand now, here we go, chapter 5!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragon Age. Unfortunately.

* * *

Trevelyan jerked awake, starring into complete darkness. There was cold stone underneath him and an equally uncomfortable wall that supported his back. His lips were trembling and his teeth chattering. It was actually freezing cold, he realized a second later. And his light robe was drenched.

But it began to dawn on him, that the miserable state of his clothing was not even the biggest problem. _Dammit_, he still felt dizzy and couldn't properly concentrate on his surroundings! He needed to do something, anything! He had to overcome this dreadful state. Rise, find a way out of the darkness, find his friends, anyone!

Feeling a little confidence, that he could form at least a couple of coherent thoughts, he tried to get up. Suddenly stabbing pain rushed through his body and he slumped back with an tormented moan. There were monstrous chains on his arms and legs.

Trevelyan hung his head lowly, shivering in the humid air.

_I'm chained and exhausted. My head is a mess. I feel like I'm going to turn into a puddle. Oh Maker, help me!_

He stared blankly into the nothingness, until he felt a presence near. Someone was looming over him. A dim light was lit somewhere, pulling his surroundings into grey shadows.

"Inquisitor," said a strangely familiar voice. For a moment, Trevelyan was sure he just imagined it.

"I didn't expect to meet you again so soon. Or under such circumstance. You'll have to excuse me for taking these security measures, but this time, I will remain in control of my affairs."

There was an odd pause. Trevelyan could have sworn, there was a faint chimes sound in the background again. It sounded lovely and distractive.

"Inquisitor?"

"Hmmm," was all he managed to say, while looking up through his long lashes. First, copper red armored feet came into his view. Then his blurred gaze traveled up, over the muscled legs, the waist, and rested for a second on the men's torso. As Trevelyan reached the elves hooded face, he smiled a goofy smile and sighed in relief.

"Oh, it's you Abelas. Thank the Maker!"

The Lord was rocking a little back and forth, making the chains dangle in the process. "I'm resting here a bit. I got, kind of, tangled," Trevelyan muttered as he tried to lift his hands in order to show the chains. "Can't remember how. Guess I'm a little clumsy."

The Sentinel frowned saying nothing.

"You can sit here too, I don't mind," Trevelyan added, smiling sweetly to the stony-faced elf.

Suddenly there was the sensation of cold fingertips on his jaw and Abelas' face hovering directly over his own.

"Hm, not a lyrium overdose, though his pupil are dilated," the Sentinel said leaning closer, sniffing on the other men, "not alcohol either."

Trevelyan closed his eyes, shifting forward, but the elf already straightened up.

"He seems confused" said a low female voice. "This human doesn't realize the danger he is in. Maybe his mind suffered while fighting _Corypheus_."

"The Inquisition wouldn't sent their mentally ill Herald here. It must be a recent development."

Trevelyan felt a cozy feeling in his abdomen, as Abelas leaned closer once again, grasping his jaw in a strong grip, forcing a direct eye contact.

"Tell me, Inquisitor, how do you feel right now?"

"Uh ..., nice. Cold or hot, can't really decide. Dizzy also, very dizzy. I like your hood."

"He's useless to us in this state," cut the female voice in.

But Abelas didn't waver. "What else? Do you hear voices?"

Trevelyan frowned a little, trying hard to think about it. But the chimes caught his attention again and he jerked his head in the direction of the sound.

"What is it?" asked this male voice again.

"It's calling me," the human whispered.

"Who? Spirits?"

"N-no, but I need to go" Trevelyan whimpered, shifting on the cold floor, trying to get up and failing miserable. "It is lovely but fragile. It won't last long, you know? Can't you hear it too?"

Abelas held him back, pushing him roughly against the wall. "No, I can't. So you need to tell me what exactly you are hearing."

The human stared at his counterpart with wide, haunted eyes. "The tingling noise. Just listen carefully and you will hear it too!"

Abelas didn't reply for a moment.

"Oh …" the Sentinel voiced. Then he turned to the female, giving her some kind of command. The next thing Trevelyan witnessed, was the sensation of cold air against his back. His hands were free of chains and he imagined being carried away through long dusty halls.

* * *

The Herald, on waking, discovered that his mind was his own again. He was resting in a bad, covered with a linen blanket. Beside him was one of the Spellweavers, slouched in a chair. A lone candle illuminated the chamber.

The bed creaked, as Trevelyan tried to sit up.

"Uhm, hello … " he offered weakly, since the Spellweaver appeared no longer asleep. The female elf rose wordlessly and left the room.

"Well, nice to meet you too ... "

Trevelyan tried to remember the last events, but his memory was blurry. He also noticed the absence of his clothes and blushed lightly. More importantly, his staff was gone too.

He jumped, as the chamber door swung open and no other then Abelas appeared at his bed.

"You are awake, finally."

"Abelas, I … how … "

"You were under the influence of a flower," the Sentinel interrupted without hesitation. "Hearing sounds, being in a daze – at first I thought you were possessed by a demon, or spirit. But all became clear, as you mentioned the chimes. You must know the Crystal Grace, a rare herb used for healing. There is however a kind of this plant, that produces a tinkle, which can confound a person. A being with magical abilities but not an elf, since our strong mind easily withstands the herb's effect."

"A human mage," concluded Trevelyan with a sigh.

"Exactly so." The Sentinel finally removed his hood and took the chair beside the bed.

Trevelyan couldn't stop himself from admiring the now fully visible vallaslin. The markings of Mythals's servants were indeed a beautiful craftsmanship.

"One of my Sentinels has found you face down in a river" the elf stated nonchalantly and the Herald couldn't stop an embarrassed blush spreading all over his face. "You were lucky. A moment later and you would've drowned. Afterwards you were brought in for questioning, but you were useless in your state."

Trevelyan sat up a little straighter. _But of course, the mission! The missing party from Orlais, the young Mainserai, how could I forget?_

"There are things we need to discuss, Abelas," Trevelyan said with a serious expression.

"Indeed," the Sentinel said and rose from his chair. "Things have changed since we last met, Inquisitor. Hence I would advise to choose your words carefully."

The Herald rose from the bed, not wanting to be on a lower eye level with the elven guardian, as he felt the tension fill the small chamber. Judging from the ice-cold look on the Sentinel's face, their imminent discussion won't be an easy one.

Abelas gave him a blank expression before turning to leave the room. "I shall await you in the main hall," he said over the shoulder. "You would want to get dressed first. A servant will bring you something befitting an Inquisitor."

As soon as he was alone, Trevelyan sat down heavily and threw his hands up in front of his face.

"Andraste's tits, did I really just let an ancient elf see me in my underwear?!"


End file.
